Christmas Ringtones
by Batwings79
Summary: Written for the 2011 Mistletoe Challenge - Modern AU - Suddenly, the lights flashed several times, Charles Carson stood and walked to the plate glass windows and looked out at the winter storm. He was glad Elsie Hughes was staying over in Glasgow after her meeting but she'd promised to call him before going to dinner. Glancing down, there were no missed calls notes on his cell...
1. Santa Baby by Eartha Kitt

_**A/N: So, exactly what happened to our Mr. Carson and Ms. Hughes after 'Ringtones'? This story is respectfully submitted in response to the Mistletoe Challenge. I hope you enjoy it!**_

 _ **Disclaimer: ITV and Mr. Fellowes may own them but it was my idea to make the time jumps happening in Series 2 leap our favorite crew all the way to the 21**_ _ **st**_ _ **century! ;-)**_

* * *

 _ **CHRISTMAS RINGTONES**_

 _ **Chapter 1 - Santa Baby by Eartha Kitt**_

Twas the night before Christmas and Charles Carson was still in his office going over contracts and addendums. It was no use going home because _she_ wouldn't be there. She had a crucial contract meeting in Glasgow this morning with the distillers and there was usually a long dinner with lots of drinking afterwards so they decided together that she would stay over until the day after Christmas and fly back to London when the holiday madness would be over.

Still, it didn't keep him from missing her. He poured himself a brandy from the bottle that he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk and leaned back in his office chair with a deep sigh. His mind wandered back to that day, just over a year ago, when they'd first gotten together.

It was the 'paint party' in his new townhouse when his business partner, Ms. Elsie Hughes, organized a group of young people from the office to come over and paint the interior for him. It was the first time he'd really interacted with her outside of the office but it wasn't long before he'd fallen head over heels for her. He was ready to thank fate, or whatever set of circumstances had brought the two of them together later that evening, but he found out soon afterwards that she'd planned the whole encounter. He'd sent them down to the corner pub for dinner and a round of drinks on his account to say thanks when they'd finished the job; little did he know that she'd handed them _her_ company credit card and sent them on to the discos in downtown London so that she could return to his townhouse with Chinese take-away and a bottle of wine. The rest, as they say, is history.

He still didn't know exactly what it was that she saw in a bumbling old company man like himself. She of the quick wit, sharp tongue and even sharper negotiating skills; she dressed smartly, was up on all the latest gadgets and electronics and could even keep pace with the kids on the dance floor. He couldn't figure out why she wanted him but she _did_ want him, just as badly as he wanted her, and that was all that mattered.

He fingered the small ring box from Tiffany's sitting on his desk. He had been so looking forward to giving her the ring on Christmas Eve. They'd never talked of marriage and it wasn't really an engagement ring but to him, a ring signified a commitment and he wanted her to know that he was committed to their relationship…committed to _her_. He had looked at the solitaires in the jewelers case but he remembered her saying that she didn't like anything that was too high profile or _flashy_. So he had opted for a platinum band with three channel set blue sapphires, elegant but low key.

Suddenly, the lights flashed several times as if the electricity were about to go out. He stood and walked over to the plate glass windows and looked out at the winter storm. He could see several pockets of the neighborhood streets were without power. As the storm had gained in intensity, he had been glad that she was going to be staying over a few extra days.

He looked at his watch and frowned when he saw that it was almost six o'clock. They had exchanged several texts this morning and she thought they would be done around four o'clock this afternoon and well on their way to a 'good drunk' by six o'clock. She promised to call him before they went to dinner. He reached across his desk to check his cell phone for any missed calls…none. She'd finally taught him how to program his speed dial and so he keyed in her code and hit the call button and heard the voice of an automated operator… _the cellphone you are trying to reach is out of service, please try your call later._

"Blast!" he roared.

William Mason was walking past his office just then and stuck his head round the door, "Something wrong, Mr. Carson?"

"No, Mr. Mason," he said shaking his head. "I was just trying to phone Ms. Hughes to see how her negotiations were going and I get the damned operator telling me there's a problem and I should try my call later."

"It's probably 'cause of the storm, Mr. Carson. We're headed down to the pub for a Christmas pint…" William trailed off in invitation.

"Thank you, Mr. Ma…William," he said with a tight smile, "I appreciate the invitation but I think I may just clean up here and go home. You take care of Miss Daisy in this storm and I wish you both a Happy Christmas."

"Thanks…you too, Mr. Carson," William said as he waved and disappeared down the hallway.

Charles opened his briefcase on top of his desk and started to put the contracts that he'd been reading into it. It would give him something to do over Christmas Day. He glanced down as he reached across to switch off his desk lamp and his eyes lighted on his desk phone…what did Mr. Mason call it?...oh yes, his 'landline.'

"Idiot!" he muttered under his breath as he picked up the landline. Why didn't he think of it earlier, he berated himself. He pulled the fuschia colored sticky note that she'd fastened to his calendar with the contact information for the office in Glasgow and punched in the numbers. Soon a very young female voice came on the line.

"Good evening, Clunes Distillers, this is Alice, how may I assist you?"

"Good evening, Alice," he began with his deepest most resonant voice, "This is Mr. Carson at Grantham, Crawley and Sons, I would like to speak with Ms. Hughes if she is available."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Carson," came Alice's voice sounding a bit like she was in a cave. "Ms. Hughes returned to London early this afternoon."

"She returned to….I don't understand," he barked into the phone.

"Yes, sir, the meeting finished at noon today and she left with Mr. Barrow and Ms. O'Brien at one o'clock. They rented a car and said they were going to drive back to London ahead of the storm."

"I see, thank you Alice…and Happy Christmas to you," he said and hung up the telephone.

 _Alright,_ _she's on her way home. It's about 650 kilometers from Glasgow to London and under normal conditions it would usually take six and a half to seven hours to make the trip. With this weather it will likely add another hour or two at least so…that means they're due in around nine or ten o'clock..._

"Hmm…if I make a couple of stops on the way home…" he muttered to himself. He took one look at his watch, grabbed his briefcase and strode out his office door. He was almost to the elevator when he ground out, "Blast!" He marched back to his desk and reached out to pick up the Tiffany box. He tossed it in the air and grabbed it on its way back down before pocketing it with a smug smile and turning back towards the elevators.

-o O o-

Getting around London was no easy task as the snow fall became very heavy. Traffic was snarled everywhere and even the Underground was experiencing delays due to the weather. As much as he wanted her home with him, he wanted her safe and in one piece so he kept up a silent mantra that he hoped would make its way to Thomas Barrow and remind him to drive safely…otherwise he would have one very irate Charles Carson to deal with.

Charles finally let himself into the townhouse just as the grandfather clock in the foyer chimed nine o'clock. She could be home anytime now so he put the take-away in the oven on a low temperature and made his way into the living room to make his preparations.

An hour later he was lighting the last of the candles and setting the wine on the hearthstone to breathe and warm by the fire. He glanced at his watch…right on schedule, he thought to himself and headed up the stairs to change out of his suit. He came back down the stairs dressed in a pair of khaki Dockers with a hunter green turtleneck on, both of which she'd given him for his birthday. She said that she liked the way they 'hugged his bum'. He'd taken a shower while he was upstairs and still had the towel draped over his head as he loped down the stairs calling out her name.

"Elsie, is that you?"

He wandered through the townhouse and found the source of the noise that he thought might have been her coming in; it was the tree outside the dining room window tapping against the glass. He looked at his watch again, ten-thirty…anytime now. He thought about pouring himself a glass of wine but it was the last bottle of her favorite, the 1940 Chateau Talbot, and he wanted to save it for her. He poured himself a brandy instead and walked over to turn on the computer and start the internet radio.

He stood in front of the desk as he remembered the weekend she had come over to help him set the whole thing up. It had taken them almost four hours to finish the job. Of course, most of that time was spent dressing and undressing each other and at one point, they almost knocked the monitor off when he bent her over the desk to make love to her. A smile ghosted across his face as the grandfather clock began to chime…it was midnight and he was beginning to get worried.

He walked over to the breakfast bar where he had deposited his briefcase, keys and cell phone. He tried her speed dial code again and still the call would not go through. He began to pace back and forth around the room. An hour later he was fit to be tied. He threw his cell phone across the room when he heard the automated voice for what felt to be the millionth time. He scratched the back of his head as was his custom when he was angry or upset and was about to grab his coat and hat when he realized that he had no idea where she was and he didn't want her to come home to an empty house.

"Where is she?" he asked aloud to whatever gods or deities might be listening. "Please keep her safe," his voice cracked with pent up emotion.

'DING-DONG'

The doorbell rang through the townhouse as though it was the big church bell in the steeple down the road.

Charles stood there dumbfounded for several long moments before he thundered to the front door and threw it open, ready to annihilate the poor soul who dared to ring his bell when he was waiting for…HER!

He couldn't believe his eyes…standing on his front step, covered in snow, teeth chattering and tears streaming down her face was Elsie Hughes.

"My god! Elsie, what happened?" he exclaimed as he took her by the shoulders and ushered her into the house. He brushed his hands quickly through her hair to get rid of the snow and unbuttoned her coat and pushed it off her shoulders and onto the floor.

"Ch-Ch-Charles, your floors!" she sobbed through her chattering teeth.

"I don't give a damn about the floors!" he yelled, taking her in his arms so that he could be sure that it was really her standing in front of him.

Her arms slowly went around his waist and soon she was clinging to him as she buried her face and sobbed into his chest. He felt her pull up the back of his sweater and he tensed slightly, waiting for her to tuck her hands into the waistband of his trousers as was her custom when her hands were cold. What he felt were two blocks of ice with ten little icicles causing him to jump.

"Elsie, you're freezing!" he said looking down as she turned her face up to him. All she could do was nod in agreement. "Come, let's get you in front of the fireplace," he said hurriedly as he led her into the living room and sat her down on a cushion on the floor.

He grabbed one of the quilts that he had stacked nearby and sat down behind her. He pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his legs around her and then covered them both with the quilt. They must have sat there for close to an hour before the shivering and the hiccoughing finally subsided. He could feel that her body had begun to warm up a bit but was afraid to move away from her.

"Elsie, love, are you awake?" he whispered not wanting to disturb her if she was asleep. He felt her head nodding against his chest. "How about I make us a cup of tea?" Again he could feel her head nod against his chest. He nudged her forward so that he could kneel behind her as he tucked the quilt back in around her.

"I'll just go and put the kettle on and be back in a second," he said kissing her on the forehead. He walked into the kitchen, filled the kettle and turned it on. He had already set up the tea tray in anticipation of their usual 'after-sex cuppa' but switched out their regular tea for an herbal variety. He thought he remembered reading somewhere that caffeine wasn't good for patients suffering from hypothermia. He suffered a moment of panic as he wondered if perhaps he should have tried to get her to a hospital but decided that since she was conscious and responding to his questions…albeit without words…that she probably wasn't truly hypothermic, just very, very cold.

He looked out at her through the breakfast bar and watched for a moment while she stared into the fire. He saw her reach down and pull the quilt away from her feet and proceed to unzip her snow boots and take them off.

"Thank god, she was wearing her boots," he thought to himself. Socks! She loved to wear an old pair of his woolly socks instead of slippers when she stayed with him. He took the stairs two at a time up to the bedroom and came down moments later with the flannel pyjamas he'd gotten her for Valentine's day from Victoria's Secret and her favorite pair of his woolly socks. Just then the kettle whistled so he wet the tea and managed to get the tea tray and the socks out to the living room.

He set the tray on the hearthstone next to the wine bottle and turned to give her the socks.

"I brought these down for you," he said quietly handing them to her.

"My favorite," she said smiling shyly up at him, "Thank you."

"Do you need some help?" he asked with a concerned look on his face.

"No, I think I can manage," she said bending down to lift the quilt away from her feet.

"I brought your flannel pyjamas down too, they're in the kitchen," he said shifting to his hands and knees in an effort to get up off the floor.

"Not yet," she told him placing her hand on his arm, "I'd kill for a cup of tea at the moment." She pulled her arms out from under the quilt and tucked it more firmly around her waist and legs and then turned to take the cup from him.

"What is this muck?" she asked him looking down into her teacup.

"I think its chamomile and lemongrass," he said picking up the honey pot to sweeten her tea. He glanced up and caught her glaring at him. "I remembered reading that caffeinated beverages were not recommended for patients suffering from hypothermia. Now, do you want some honey for your tea?"

"No, thank you," she glowered at him over the rim of her cup. "Oh, you're probably right," she finally said with a deep sigh, "it feels good to drink something warm. Could I have just a little honey, please?" She smiled at him hopefully.

"Since you asked nicely," he responded dropping a dollop of honey into her cup. They both laughed.

"I'm so glad to hear you sounding more like yourself, sweetheart," he said with relief. "When I saw you standing on the doorstep, covered in snow, I really panicked."

"I'm sorry, Charles," she said meekly hanging her head. "I wanted to surprise you and we really thought we could beat the storm home but we hadn't counted on the traffic in some of the smaller villages and the storm caught up to us before we even realized."

"Why didn't you stop somewhere and spend the night?"

"We did stop a couple of times but most places were full because of the holiday," she began, "Besides, Sarah and Thomas wanted to get home to their families as well so we just kept moving."

"Thomas couldn't have dropped you off in front of the townhouse," he started, "you were covered in several inches of snow, what happened?"

"Thomas tried, he really did," she said responding to the skeptical look on his face. "The roads weren't plowed and so the closest he could get was five blocks away. Then I had to walk through the drifts because nobody's been out to shovel their walkways yet."

"Hmph! Well, remind me to thank Thomas when we're back in the office next week," he grumbled.

Elsie just smiled into her teacup as she began to notice her surroundings. She saw that he'd pushed back all the furniture and laid out blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace. She looked up and saw the candles that had burned so low that most of them were threatening to gutter out. She leaned forward to put her teacup back on the tray and noticed the wine bottle and glasses on the hearthstone. She looked over at Charles who was suddenly studying the pattern in the bottom of his teacup.

"Charles? What's going on?" she asked waving her hand around the room with a flourish.

"If you must know," he said with a hint of sarcasm and went on to tell about his conversation with Alice, the receptionist. "…and so I thought that I would surprise you. I stopped and picked up Chinese…oh god! It's still in the oven." He jumped up and ran into the kitchen.

"It's still good, are you hungry?" he called out from the kitchen.

"Yes, please…and bring out those pyjamas you brought down."

He noticed through the opening in the breakfast bar that the electric lights in the living room went out and the lights of the Christmas tree turned on. He finished putting the boxes on the dinner tray and reached over to fish her chopsticks out of the side drawer. He gripped the pyjamas under his arm, turned out the lights in the kitchen and made his way back out to the living room.

He found her standing in front of the Christmas tree with the quilt wrapped around her. He set the tray down in the middle of the blanket on the floor and handed her the pyjamas. He turned to place another log on the fire and was just closing the screen when he saw the dress she had been wearing hit the floor near the doorway. When he turned around, she was standing there in front of the tree wearing only her underwear and his woolly socks. His hungry eyes took in every shadow and every curve until his gaze rose to meet her triumphant smile. Her triumph was short lived when a wicked grin started to spread across his face.

"What?" she questioned him as he watched her plant her small fists on those oh, so womanly hips.

"When did you start shopping at Marks and Sparks?" he laughed.

"How did you know?" she pouted crossing her arms which only increased her cleavage much to his delight.

He stood in front of her and slowly undid the fastenings on his trousers and lowered them to his ankles to show her the Christmas tartan boxers he was wearing that were an exact match to her tartan bra and bikinis. She stared at his undershorts for a moment and they both burst out laughing. He stepped out of his trousers and tossed them over to join her dress on the floor.

She walked over to him and he took her in his arms as she stepped up to stand on the tops of his feet to kiss him. She snaked her arms around his neck and started to ruck his sweater up around his shoulders in an effort to remove it. He grunted and reached up to pull the sweater over his head and send it across the room with the other articles of clothing.

His hands returned to roam over her bare skin as he kissed and nibbled her neck and shoulder. He started to suck gently on the swell of her breast when he noticed a small sprig of mistletoe sewn into the bottom of the cleavage on her bra. He quirked an eyebrow as he raised his head to look at her.

"I was hoping that I'd get lucky and you'd kiss me under the mistletoe," she said innocently trying but failing to keep a neutral look on her face. He cocked his head to one side with a small smirk and then lowered himself to his knees in front of her.

"Hmmm… _under_ the mistletoe, you say?" he asked as he studied the sprig. He leaned in to kiss her midriff just below the band on her bra. He swirled his tongue over her skin and sucked lightly before breaking the kiss to look up at her. He saw her eyes darken with desire as she shook her head 'no.'

He quirked his eyebrow just a bit higher as he asked, "Lower?" He then kissed and tickled her navel with his tongue before looking up at her again.

This time he raised both eyebrows, "Lower still?" A grin spread across his face as he spied the sprig sewn into the waistband of her bikinis. "Aaah...more mistletoe," he said seductively. He placed his hands on the outsides of her thighs and pulled her closer as he kissed her center. He felt a small shudder pass through her as he mouthed her through her bikinis and when her legs began to quiver, he pulled back and eased her down onto the floor in front of the fireplace.

He buried his nose in her cleavage as he reached around to unfasten her bra which he tossed in the general direction of the doorway with their other clothes. He kissed and suckled her right breast while his thumb and fingers played over her left. It wasn't long before her back was arching and she was running her fingers through his hair. He left a trail of wet kisses down her stomach with forays to nip on her hip bones when he encountered the second sprig of mistletoe again. He kissed her through her bikinis and her hips lifted towards him in response. He looked up between her knees and saw that her eyes were closed and her lips slightly parted.

He had considered teasing her about kissing him under the mistletoe sewn to the waistband of his boxer shorts but with everything that she'd been through, he decided that tonight would be dedicated to her and so he reached out and rolled her bikinis slowly down her legs as he followed his hands with light kisses and flicks of his tongue. He began working his way back up her legs, massaging her feet and then her calves as he went.

"Charles," he heard her voice above him, "if you don't get back up here soon…"

"Patience, my dear," he chuckled as he nipped at her thigh and then shifted himself up, positioning her knees over his shoulders as he leaned in to kiss her center. She writhed beneath him and he placed one hand on her stomach to soothe her and hold her still.

He used his tongue first to one side and then the other as he had learned would bring her great pleasure. She had always been confident in her lovemaking and very vocal…not just in the ways that she expressed the pleasure that he brought to her but also in teaching him what she liked and didn't like. He was the one who still had trouble expressing himself in the bedroom, but she had been kind and patient and he was learning how sharing those intimacies could bring great joy to their relationship.

He heard her begin to whimper and felt her shift her feet just a bit – back and forth – the first signs that she was beginning to 'wind up' as she liked to call it. He began alternating the strokes with soothing swirls of his tongue. He also inserted first one finger which he soon followed with a second and before long, the rhythm of her hips came to match. He enjoyed making love to her in this manner because he could watch her expressions and feel the way her body would shift and move based on what he was doing for her. _He_ still had trouble truly abandoning himself to the feelings when she would return the favor. Whenever she felt that he was holding back, she would stop what she was doing to tease him about being a 'cold fish' and then he would have to tell at least one aspect of what she was doing for him that he enjoyed before she would continue. It near drove him mad with desire at times but he was learning a lot about himself in the process.

Aaah…there it was. She took hold of his wrist across her stomach with both hands, she was getting very close now. He changed the rhythm of his tongue again, to alternate swirls with small flitting motions. She had recently read an article in a women's journal about the controversial 'G-spot' and they joked about spending a weekend trying to find it. Afterwards, he decided to try a few variations and soon found a particular spot that seemed to result in greater pleasure for her as evidence by her reactions as she tumbled over the edge. If he crooked his fingers just so and shifted just a bit to the right…

"Charles!" she called out and soon her entire body was trembling around him.

He continued his attentions for a few moments more until her trembling began to subside and she released her grip on his wrist to reach down and stroke her fingers through his hair. He smiled to himself as she continued to murmur his name. He kissed his way back up her torso and rolled over on his side drawing her to him. He murmured sweet nothings in her ear as she continued to float on the last faint waves of her pleasure. He rubbed her back with soft even strokes until he felt that last pop of tension leave her body as she fell asleep on his chest. He pulled the quilt over them and snuggled down and was soon snoring softly by her side.

-o O o-

… _ **Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight!**_

"Dammit, Elsie! Turn that bloody thing off!" he bellowed from the floor in front of the fireplace.

"For your information, it's not mine…and I can't find it anywhere," she yelled back at him.

Charles sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes to find her standing by the breakfast bar, wrapped in the quilt and looking into his briefcase.

"What are you doing?"

"Your cell phone went off and I thought perhaps you had put it in your briefcase, but I can't find it," she said with a hint of sarcasm.

"It should be there on the breakfast bar with my keys," he said standing to walk over to her.

"Very sexy," she said with a smirk as she eyed his tartan boxer shorts.

"You thought they were funny last night," he said seductively, drawing her into his arms for a kiss.

"They're still funny," she laughed as she reached up and pushed several of his dark curls behind his ear. "You didn't blow dry your hair?"

"You told me you thought it was sexy when I left it curly," he said as he nuzzled the side of her neck.

"Mmm…I do," she murmured as she melted against his chest. "Speaking of _sexy_ …who did you assign the sexy Ms. Eartha Kitt to?"

"Hmm?" he said concentrating on leaving her with a Christmas hickey behind her left ear.

"Your ringtone, 'Santa Baby', I hope that's not assigned to your _other_ girlfriend," she said with a playful pout.

"Of course not," he said smiling down at her, " _you're_ the only sexy woman that I want calling me 'Santa Baby'…oh, god! That was your cell phone calling my cell phone!" He let her go suddenly and started turning in circles, "What was I doing last night? Oh yes, I tried you on the speed dial for the umpteenth time and that blasted operator…I threw the cell phone across the room!" He ran over towards the desk and spied his cell phone lying on the carpet under the window. He bent to pick it up just as it began to play 'Santa Baby' again.

"Hello, this is Charles Carson," he said into the phone.

"Aaah…Mr. Barrow…."

"Yes, she's here with me," he said in a somewhat serious tone, "Would you like to speak with her?" Charles shook his head and motioned her away when she stepped up and reached to take the phone from him.

"Yes?...her purse, her briefcase and her suitcase…yes, we'll be by to pick them up tomorrow," Charles listened as he stared at the Christmas tree. Suddenly, an idea occurred to him. "Mr. Barrow, when we hang up the phone, could you wait two minutes and then call back and leave the address on my voicemail?"

"Yes, two full minutes…and Mr. Barrow…Thomas….. _Thank you_..." he finally said, his voice hoarse and cracking with emotion. "…Happy Christmas to you, too, Thomas."

Charles hit the end call button and strode over to where she stood by his briefcase. He took her by the hand and led her over to the Christmas tree and knelt down on the floor. He tugged at her hand and tried to guide her around to kneel and face him.

"Charles what are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.

"Humor an old man?"

She heaved a deep sigh and turned to join him on the floor. He set his cell phone down on the floor between them, took both of her hands in his and leaned over to kiss her. He could feel her trying to turn her head to look at the Christmas tree during the kiss.

"What are you doing?" he asked when he finally broke the kiss.

"Looking for the mistletoe," she answered with a small snort. His cell began to vibrate on floor and then Ms. Kitt began to sing…

 _ **Come and trim my Christmas tree with some decorations bought at Tiffany's**_

 _ **I really do believe in you, let's see if you believe in me**_

Charles reached up just beside her cheek and pushed one of the branches of the Christmas tree down so that she could see the small box from Tiffany's that he'd hidden there. Her eyes grew wide in surprise.

 _ **Santa Baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring.**_

 _ **I don't mean on the phone, Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight!**_

"Charles!" she gasped as she put her hands to her cheeks, "I…I don't know what to say…"

"Don't _say_ anything," he said a little worried at her hesitation, "it might not be exactly what you think it is."

She reached out with a shaky hand and took the box from the tree. She looked over at him from under a quirked eyebrow as she slowly pulled the ribbon off and opened the lid. When she looked down into the box, her eyes welled up with tears.

"Oh, Charles," she whispered, "it's beautiful!" She tried to pick the ring up but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn't keep hold of it. Charles reached over and took the box from her. He slipped the ring out and then gently took her left hand in his and slipped the platinum band onto her third finger.

"Elsie, I know that we've never talked about marriage but we have talked about what it means to be in a committed relationship and I bought this ring as symbol of my commitment to _our_ relationship…of my commitment to _you_." He leaned over and gave her a lingering kiss. "And I learned something last night…when I didn't know where you were or if I would ever see you again…Elsie, I love you with all my heart and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If you want to turn that ring into a wedding band, you would make me the happiest man on earth."

Charles suddenly found himself flat on his back with both arms full of Scottish negotiator. She'd launched herself at him and was now trying to kiss him senseless.

"May I take that as a 'yes'?" he chuckled when they finally broke apart. She sat up straddling his hips having lost the quilt during her 'launch' and nodded her head vigorously.

Suddenly a frown crossed her face and she looked near to tears again.

"What's the matter now? Haven't change your mind already, have you?" he asked trying to tease her.

"No, Charles, it's your Christmas present," she said sadly, "It's in my suitcase."

"Don't look so sad, we'll get it tomorrow," he said as a wicked grin began to spread across his face. "And in the meantime, I'll just collect _my_ kiss _under_ the mistletoe." He reached down and snapped the elastic of his Christmas tartan boxers where the sprig of mistletoe was sewed into the waistband.

The End – Happy Christmas!

 _ **A/N2: In case you were wondering, the plot criteria chosen for this challenge entry were: Singing – drunken or otherwise (provided by Ms. Eartha Kitt), Christmas hickey, Tartan underclothing…and I was hoping for a little extra credit for 'creative kissing under the mistletoe'.**_

 _ **A/N3: Okay, so I lied…it's not the end. A wonderful friend of mine read this and asked the question…what about Elsie? How has she changed since she's been in this relationship? And so the seeds for a look at the story from Elsie's point of view were born. I promise it won't be re-hash of the same points here but I am writing a second chapter to this story…in direct violation of the Mistletoe Challenge rules…but I hope you will like it anyway.**_


	2. What are You Doing New Year's Eve?

_**A/N: Yes, I'm breaking my own rules for the Mistletoe Challenge by posting this second chapter for 'Christmas Ringtones' but the story was just clamoring for Elsie's view of the relationship. I hope ya'll enjoy it.**_

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't receive any monetary gain from writing about them. I'm just glad that I get to play with them once in awhile and I promise to return them to ITV and Mr. Fellowes in time for the Christmas Special! ;-)**_

* * *

 _ **CHRISTMAS RINGTONES**_

 ** _Chapter 2 - What are You Doing New Year's Eve? by Harry Connick Jr._**

Elsie stretched and pulled on the flannel pyjamas that he had given her for Valentine's Day earlier in the year. She smiled to herself as she thought about him going into Victoria's Secret by himself. She could just imagine the young and pretty salesgirls flocking around him, assuming that he was there to shop for a much younger girlfriend and ready to spend his money on anything they suggested. The one thing she knew that they didn't was that he would have arrived having done his homework.

She had taken to wearing his flannel pyjamas when she stayed with him and he had two complaints about that. First, that his pyjamas were becoming permanently creased at the ankles and wrists due to the fact that she had to roll them up so far in order to keep from tripping in them. Second, that he could never _find_ her in them because there was so much extra material. He liked being able to touch her and feel her body under his hands.

When she opened the box on Valentine's Day to find the red flannel pyjamas covered in hearts nestled in the decidedly pink VS tissue paper, she was not surprised in the least. They were a perfect fit and it didn't take long to notice that his hands would find their way to her bottom to caress and hold her close whenever she wore them.

She walked over to his computer and clicked on the Pandora icon to start the Christmas music playing in the background. Harry Connick, Jr. was singing 'What Are You Doing New Year's Eve' as she padded over to the breakfast bar and hoisted herself up onto one of the tall bar stools so she could watch him preparing breakfast.

He prepared simple dishes but always with the freshest ingredients and the highest standards. He would lay out his utensils to have them at the ready and he would get the sexiest little frown on his face when he was working with knives and concentrating on chopping ingredients. He tried to teach her to cook on more than several occasions but she didn't have the patience to learn all the cuts and stirs and ways of preparing things…and she still couldn't boil water to save her soul. But Charles was patient and kind and she had learned to slow down and enjoy good food and good wine with him. For her part, she would clean the kitchen and load the dishwasher, usually while he lit the fire and turned the music on so they could snuggle on the sofa in the evenings.

He turned to look at her and caught the ghost of a smile on her face. "Something amusing?" he asked as he turned his attention back to stirring the scrambled eggs.

"Just admiring the view," she said checking out his bare shoulders and the way his Dockers hung from his hips and hugged his bum. "Should you be in the kitchen without a shirt on?"

"You just said that you were admiring the view," he exclaimed reaching for a plate to put the eggs on.

"I wouldn't want you to mar that beautiful chest," she teased him.

"I'll be careful," he snorted and placed the eggs in the oven to keep warm while he finished the toast and poured the coffee.

She still had no idea what it was that he saw in a corporate power maven such as herself. He of the wry wit and the impeccable taste…his attention to detail was one of the traits that she so loved about him. He always did his homework and knew the small details whether it was contract work or finding out that she liked chocolate covered strawberries for her birthday.

-o O o-

Since they'd come together as a couple, they had also become a bit of a tag-team at work. Rather than stay late at the office on Fridays as they had done individually in the past, they would pack up their contracts and pending paperwork and spend a few hours on Saturday morning tying up loose ends for the next week. They would rise early, even having spent most of the night before making love, and she would make the tea while he scrambled the eggs. After breakfast, she would wash while he dried and then he would sit at his desk while she spread out on his sofa.

The first time it happened, she'd taken to pacing the floor and muttering under her breath as she read through the contract submitted by Strallin, Inc. After the third time that she passed his desk, he reached out and took hold of her hand.

"What's the matter?" he asked looking up at her from his deskchair.

"There's something wrong with this contract but I can't quite put my finger on it," she said in exasperation.

"Let's have a look at it, love," he reached out and took the contract from her.

"Here's the problem," he said after spending a few minutes reviewing the contract language. "They've modified the boilerplate."

"What?" she asked with a puzzled frown on her face.

"Right here, by changing the language in this standard clause, they've effectively transferred all risk for non-payment by the vendor back to Izzie and Violet's Boutique. Oh-ho!" he exclaimed suddenly. "You've also got to get this one changed otherwise, Izzie's is responsible to make all payments with no fee schedule or repayment plans required of Strallin."

"Charles," she said coyly running her hand behind his neck and her finger around the outside of his ear. "Would you mind taking a look at the rest of the contract language?"

An hour later, she was beginning to regret having asked the favor when his full attention was buried in the paperwork. When all was said and done, he'd found five more modifications that were not in her client's best interests and she never again scoffed at his getting lost in the minutiae. Soon he was reviewing all of her contracts. In return, she found ways to stop by and observe his clients through the glass walls of the main conference room. She would then send him texts regarding personality, body language and eye contact that he could use to his advantage during negotiations.

It was his idea to approach their clients about working together as a team. He would do the leg work and the paperwork while she handled the personalities and the negotiations. Within six months they had closed mega-deals for three of their top five clients and had lured two more major clients away from Carlisle and Sons, their top competitor. It was a match made in heaven both at the office and at home.

-o O o-

"Huevos Rancheros, my dear," he said as he set her plate before her with a flourish.

He set several small dishes of salsa, grated cheese and sour cream up on the breakfast bar and then came to sit on the bar stool next to her. As he passed beside her stool, she reached out and ran her hand up his arm. He turned towards her and she stood up on the bottom rung of her bar stool which placed her at eye level with him. She slid her arms around his neck and pulled him closer so that she could kiss him and his hands slid around to caress her bottom as she knew they would.

"Mmmm…what was that for?" he asked as she hugged him close and drank in his scent, spiced sandalwood with a hint of muskiness from their lovemaking earlier this morning.

"Just for being you," she said happily kissing him on the nose as she sat back down on her stool.

"I'll try to be _me_ more often if that's the reward that I get," he replied with a smile as they both picked up their forks and began to eat.

They ate in a companionable silence for awhile. Elsie looked down at the ring on her finger, not at all surprised that he had picked out something so perfect for her.

"When are we going over to Thomas' to pick up my things?" she asked, thinking about the gift that she'd gotten for him.

"I thought we might go up and have a shower first, love," he said seductively as he ran his hand under her pyjama top and massaged her lower back for a moment. "I thought we might head over there around three o'clock and we can stop by Luigi's on the way home."

"Luigi's?" she said quirking an eyebrow at him.

"When he heard that you would be staying over in Glasgow, he invited me to have Christmas dinner with his family. But when I told him that I was planning to spend the evening on a Skype video-call with the woman of my dreams, he insisted that I should stop by the restaurant around five o'clock and he would have dinner and dessert boxed up and ready to go so that I could be home in time for your call."

"That was sweet of him," she said as she hopped down and started to clear away the dishes.

DING-DONG – The doorbell rang through the house.

"Who the bloody hell could that be on Christmas day," he grumbled as he rose from his bar stool.

"I'll get it," she chuckled and turned towards the foyer.

His arms slid around her waist from behind as he pulled her back against his chest, "Not dressed like that you're won't, I'm the only one that gets to see the Venus de Milo in her pyjamas!" He leaned down to kiss the side of her neck as he turned her towards the kitchen and swatted her on the bottom.

"What's good for the goose is good for the gander," she laughed as she walked into the kitchen. "I don't want you advertising that Adonis physique of yours to the entire neighborhood. On with your vest!" she decreed with a cheeky grin.

He picked his turtleneck up off the floor as he moved through the foyer, pulling it over his head as he reached for the doorknob. The front porch was vacant when he opened the door. Glancing down he saw a suitcase, briefcase and handbag sitting just to the right of the doorway and stepped out to see who might have left them. He saw Thomas reaching to open the door of his car parked at the curb.

"Thomas," he called out and the younger man turned around to look at him.

"I was on my way over to my Gran's for dinner and thought I'd drop them off," said Thomas with a small shrug.

"Much appreciated," Charles replied.

"I'll be off then," said Thomas pulling open the door to his car.

"Thank you, Thomas," said Charles trying quell the emotion that cracked his voice slightly.

"No problem, it was on my way…"

"I meant for last night," he said interrupting the younger man, "for taking care of Els…Ms. Hughes…and bringing her home safely."

"She loves you, you know," said Thomas breaking the awkward silence.

"I know," he replied quietly.

"All she could think about was getting home to you," Thomas said looking down at the sidewalk. "Don't know why when she could have someone as good looking as I am," he snorted.

Charles appreciated the young man's attempt to lighten the mood. "Putting someone else ahead of yourself is the first step…there may be hope for you yet, Mr. Barrow," he said with genuine smile.

"Right, Mr. Carson," Thomas smiled in return. "See you back in the office then?"

"Happy Christmas… _Thomas_."

The young man got into his car and drove off with a wave. Charles turned and gathered Elsie's things to take them into the townhouse.

-o O o-

"Who was it," called Elsie from the kitchen.

"It was Thomas dropping off your things," he said as he started climbing the stairs to the bedroom.

"Really? That's so unlike him," she said drying her hands on a dishtowel and following him up the stairs.

"Maybe he was feeling in the Christmas spirit," he mumbled as he hoisted her suitcase up onto the antique steamer trunk that he kept at the foot of the bed. She watched as he undid the fastenings and opened the case so that she could unpack if she so desired. She stepped up and ran her hands under his turtleneck, settling around his waist from behind.

"Brrr! Your hands are cold," he murmured as he turned to take her in his arms and hold her close.

She stepped up onto the tops of his feet and placed her arms around his shoulders. She bent her knees and she could feel him stiffen slightly as he prepared himself to catch her under her bottom as she boosted herself into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. He pretended to go weak in the knees under her weight and lowered himself to the sit on the side of the bed. He lay back on the bed and held her close to him as he made long strokes down her back from her shoulders to her hips.

She nestled her head in the crook of his neck and her eyes settled on the smallest bit of gold ribbon sticking up out of one corner of her suitcase. She sat up suddenly and scooted to the foot of the bed. He turned to lie on his side and propped his head on his hand so he could watch her. When she returned to kneel beside him she held out her hand to him and he could see a small box from Tiffany's tied with a gold ribbon.

"Hmm, great minds think alike," he said reaching out to take the box from her.

"Do you really think so?" she asked pulling the box back from him. He quirked an eyebrow at her as he turned onto his back and pulled her over to straddle his hips. "Do you really think that we've started reading each other's minds?"

"Elsie," he said with a chuckle, "I don't think we can read each other's minds. But I do believe that we go together, that we complete each other…that 'yin and yang' thing that you're always on about. We are on the same wave-length so it would only make sense that we would think along the same lines when it comes to something like a gift, especially a personal gift such as this." She silently held the box out to him.

He took it from her and pulled the ribbon off and tossed it towards her open suitcase. He paused to raise one hand to his brow and close his eyes as if trying to mystically divine what was inside the box. He opened one eye and gave her a cheeky smirk before he opened the box and felt his jaw drop. "But how…" he trailed off looking at her in surprise.

"I don't know," she said quietly shaking her head. "I just knew the moment that I saw it, it was _the one_." He looked back into the box in wonder at the platinum band with three channel set sapphires that was the mate to the one that he had given her. She reached over and slid it from the box and placed it on the third finger of his left hand.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of _my_ commitment to our relationship…of my commitment to _you,"_ she repeated his words from earlier this morning. She heard her voice crack and could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she stared down at his hand as it lay in hers. This was the first time that she had ever made a commitment to someone else and it scared her.

"A bit terrifying isn't it," he said quietly, lifting her chin to look at him. She could only nod her head as her lip trembled. When she looked into his eyes, she saw nothing but love and understanding and she knew immediately that she had made the right choice. He reached out and folded her into his arms and held her tight for several long minutes.

She felt a shiver go up her spine as his hands moved from around her waist to ghost lightly up her sides and come to rest on her breasts. She had been surprised to find out that he was such a highly tactile and sensual lover. Touch and taste and scent aroused him to levels that she had not thought possible based on her experience with previous lovers. Before, it had always been about the struggle for power and dominance of one over the other…but with _him_ , it was truly about becoming _one_ in the experience.

They took their time undressing each other…touching and tasting and filling their senses until she felt the tension indicating that he couldn't wait any longer. She paused for a moment, letting him take the lead. This was something that she had struggled with when they first came together but she soon discovered that he could be a highly creative lover and that _sharing_ the power only enhanced the pleasure for both of them.

She didn't know if he had been reading her mind at that moment but she smiled to herself as he guided her to kneel up close and facing the headboard of his sturdy oak four poster. In the past, a position such as this had always given her partner the upper hand but he _never_ made her feel that way.

He knelt behind her and nudged her knees apart with his own and pulled her back onto his lap as he entered her from behind. He held her upright against his chest as he nibbled her neck and shoulders and his hands gave attention to several other places that soon had her moaning and writhing against him. The tender way in which he held her and whispered reminders of his love and desire for her made her feel young and powerful and from this position, it was she who set the pace and the rhythm.

Soon he leaned her forward to rest her arms and shoulders on the pillows against the headboard while he rubbed her back and hips and then it was his turn to set the rhythm for their lovemaking. As they both climbed towards their peak, he reached out and took hold of the headboard to leverage more power behind his strokes and soon she reached out and pushed against the headboard to leverage more power in her response. It wasn't long before this shared power sent them both tumbling over the edge. He wrapped one arm around her waist and lowered them down to rest on the bed. She loved the feeling of his weight on top of her and the feel of his body wrapped around her and she could feel the quivering of his muscles as he rode blissfully on the last waves of his pleasure.

He shifted slightly so that he could spoon up against her back, his left hand coming to rest on the outside of her thigh. She looked down at their hands as she found herself absentmindedly rubbing the back of his hand with her own. Their bands gleamed together in the low light of the single lamp that he had put on when they first entered the room. She marveled at how small her hand was compared to his and she was comforted knowing how gentle and reassuring those large hands could be. She felt him stretch behind her in the bed as he lifted her hand up so that he could lean over her shoulder and kiss the back of it where her band sat at the base of her finger.

"Happy Christmas, Love," he murmured as he pulled her closer and moved his hands to cup her breasts as was his habit when they slept. She giggled to herself as she heard him begin to snore softly in her ear. Falling asleep immediately after lovemaking seemed to be a trait common to all males, alpha or otherwise. She hugged him closer and snuggled in for a nap of her own.

The Real End – Happy Christmas One and All!

-o O o-

 _ **A/N2: Reviews are always a nice Christmas gift! :-)**_


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